Grilled Exotic Meat Skewers Among the Unexpected at Burlingame’s Mokutanya

Once in Seoul, I put an entire living octopus in my mouth and ate it. I tried pig’s blood soup in Beijing. And in Japan I ate whale and cod testicles, separately.

These incidents share two things in common. One: they are disgusting experiences and in the case of the octopus, traumatizing. Two: my friend Stephen has been at least 50% responsible for every one of them. Stephen is why I’ve eaten camel, crocodile, skate, cricket, shark, emu, ostrich, buffalo, even dog.

So I was suspicious last week when Stephen sent me a nameless Burlingame address with an invitation to a “mystery dinner.” Red flags flew when I arrived at the address, a restaurant called Mokutanya, and he told me with wicked grin that he’d already ordered.

I ventured two guesses, both of which turned out to be true. My first guess, given the restaurant’s name, was that we’d be eating Japanese food. The second was that there would be an experimental twist to the meal. I based this on the interior which was built with partitions to separate dining parties, just like in a Tokyo restaurant, only these barriers were clear glass rather than washi paper and wood.

The interior of Mokutanya (Fabian Mach).

Diners, tucked away in their respective nooks, could all see, but not hear each other. This design was perfect for Stephen, who likes the group atmosphere of “being out,” but struggles with voice modulation.

I stole a glance at our neighbors’ table en route to our own cubicle in the corner. Cold ramen noodles, grilled vegetables and meat skewers, a plate of some yellowish-brown morsels that looked almost like an olive leaf dolma.

We seated ourselves on floor cushions around a kotatsu-style table — one of those short-but-squat tables no more than a foot off the ground.

Stephen ordered a bottle of unfiltered nigorisake. It was sweet and cloudy and every time my cup emptied, Stephen poured more. Any time there was silence, Stephen broached a new topic of chit-chat. I got the sense that I was being purposefully preoccupied.

Our small talk was interrupted when our waitress came in with our first dish. It was the yellowish-brown morsels I’d seen on our neighbor’s table.

Now I could see that these morsels were some hideous once-living thing that might fall under the loose category of “bug.” Each crisped body had was striped with segmented ridges and tapered to a point at the “tail” and bulged outward at the “head.” It had the definition of an embryo.

“Deep-fried silkworm,” our waitress announced. Stephen, who’d placed the order, burst into a fit of howling laughter which he’d evidently been suppressing for some time.

The silkworms were, in fact, pupae and therefore different from the fully grown insects I’d previously eaten in Asia and at Stephen’s house. (Stephen once threw a “bug-tasting” party in which he put crickets and mealworms out in chip bowls. He was legitimately disappointed at the end of the evening when they were still full.)

In terms of taste, the silkworm pupae ($8) were no different than any bug I’ve had. They tasted like the oil and seasoning they were deep-fried in. Just like a potato chip.

The texture of the pupae, though, was thoroughly superior to that of any grown-up bugs’. They were plump and firm little nuggets with no desiccated husk or any spindly legs to get stuck in my teeth.

Head to Mokutanya with an open mind and empty stomach (Sarah Smith).

About halfway through the pupae, our waitress returned with a half-dozen tiny plates. Each held a meat skewer or two. On the flat skewer handle a short code had been written in black sharpie: S, P, A, Ig, W, Co.

“What in God’s name is ‘Co’?”

Stephen was laughing so hard by this point that he instinctively pulled his hands into light little fists and shook them up and down in front of his chest.

The skewers were all cooked in the Japanese kushiyake-style, down to the use of binchotan charcoal.

We started with the sea snails ($5) and were surprised to find they aren’t gelatinous sacks like escargot, but dense and meaty. Imagine an abalone that tastes like scallop. Peacock ($18), it turned out, is a blander, chewier chicken. Alligator ($8) is just like crocodile. It’s a consistently solid, if not unremarkable, white meat — more flavorful than chicken, but a far cry from pork.

We’d been warned the iguana skewers ($15) would be bony, though I’d imagined myself picking flimsy little fish-like bones from the meat. In reality, the bones were digit-sized nubs with a trim layer of meat wrapped round. Eating required us to naw at them like itty-bitty drumsticks. Not a bad taste though, iguana. It picked up the charcoal quite well.

The wild boar ($8) caused disagreement. Steven said it was lean and gamey. I thought it just tasted like pork. We did, however, reach consensus that the best meat of the night was coyote ($9). Though a bit tough, the coyote skewer was rich and flavorful, like rib-eye steak or dog.

We also got some normal food, that is to say food eaten by normal Japanese people — the vast majority of whom do not eat coyote.

The fact that I enjoyed the yakinasugrilled eggplant ($8) as much as I did was a big deal. I usually despise eggplant, it’s never firm enough and it feels so gross and mushy in mouth. The yakinasu, though, had perfect firmness, and the fact that it was glazed in ginger ponzu and furikake seasoning didn’t hurt.

I have since been in touch with the restaurant, in both my and Stephen’s interests, and learned that the exotic meat night menu rotates week by week depending on the availability of the meats — I suppose there’s not many iguana ranchers out there. Bobcat, venison, swan, kangaroo, antelope, rattlesnake, camel, bull testicles, and others also make the menu some weeks. Most of these I’ve still yet to try. A few even Stephen hasn’t tried. I wouldn’t be surprised to find myself here again.

The Deets:Open: 11 a.m. – 2 a.m. every day of the week.Exotic meat night: 6 p.m. – 2 a.m. Wednesday and Thursday.Pro Tips: Exotic meat night is crowded. Make a reservation. Customers can call ahead on Wednesday to see what will be on the menu for the week.

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